Snow White and the Four Pevensies
by SageTelgar
Summary: Snow White set in the Narnia universe. Princess Agatha, called "Snow White," is on the run from her stepmother, who was one of Jadis's most avid supporters. Desperate to regain her throne and save her people, Snow travels to Narnia with a band of loyal dwarfs seeking the help of the monarchs who rule the Golden Age. Eventual Edmund/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Jadis, self-titled Queen of Narnia, cut down the Tree of Protection as its leaves fell one autumn and sent Narnia and the lands around it into an eternal winter. She really only wanted Narnia, but she overdid the spell a bit.

The kingdom just southwest of Narnia was called Nialba. The Queen left it well enough alone, save for a required annual tithe. After almost ninety years of winter and no other season, the kingdom Nialba was nearly destitute. Into this troubled time was born a Princess, a tiny girl whose skin never saw the light of the sun. She was nicknamed Snow White by her parents, and the entire court of Nialba was fond of the raven-haired girl who ran almost wild through the corridors of the palace.

When the Princess was only five years old, her mother died in an illness sent across the kingdoms by Jadis, to decimate those who might oppose her. The King was devastated, as was the young Princess. Nialba went into deep mourning.

Finally, after one hundred years of winter, Jadis was vanquished and spring finally came to the kingdoms. The people of Nialba were surprised—they'd heard of no plans for an uprising—but they rejoiced nonetheless. The King ordered the planting of crops immediately, but the kingdom was very poor after one hundred years of tithing and no growth. In an attempt to correct this, the king married a wealthy woman from the Seven Isles called Citrine. Citrine had been one of Jadis's most ardent supporters in the Isles, but she swore by the Lion's Mane that she had acted thus to preserve her people, and the King of Nialba believed her.

The girl called Snow White was thirteen when her father died, of an illness much like the one that had taken her mother. Her stepmother became Queen Citrine until the Princess should come of age.

After her father's death, Princess Agatha—as she was called only by the Queen—was confined to the castle.

"It's for your own safety, dear," said Queen Citrine. "Queen Jadis's evil spawn still roam freely. You must be kept safe until you may take your throne, and your kingdom made safe for you."

Snow White thought this seemed wise—until she was locked in her room on her fifteenth birthday. She was surprised when none of her servants came to help her bathe or dress for her birthday banquet. Snow White had been excited for this particular birthday; fifteen was the age when she would be officially declared heir and presented to the court.

She'd watched all week as preparations were made for the banquet. Nobles had gone on hunts in her honor, and the game they'd caught was to be eaten for her birthday. The kingdom had prospered since the winter's end, and the fruits, wines, and other crops brought in bore witness to that prosperity.

At about ten o'clock, Snow White heard dancing music start up downstairs. She set down the book she was reading ( _Is Man a Myth?_ ) and went to the door.

"Saffron?" The princess called for her personal maid, who was as much a friend as a maid could be to a princess.

Snow White turned the knob of her door—and nothing happened. She shook the door, and the tumblers rattled in the lock.

"Hello?" She tried the door again. "Why am I locked in?"

There was no answer.

Snow White yelled at the top of her lungs, which were substantial. "Hello!"

"Shut up!" A bass voice resounded just outside the door.

"Why am I locked in?" the princess demanded.

There was no answer.

Snow White licked her lips and tried again. "I order you to tell me why I have been locked in my room. It is my birthday, and I wish to greet my guests."

"I'm not to speak to you," the bass voice grumbled.

"But you are," Snow White said insistently. "Please—I won't ask you to disobey your orders again—I just want to know why."

"Queen's orders," said her guard. "You've been deemed unfit to rule."

"How? Why? By whom?"

"I don't know," the guard said. "Now shut up, please."

Snow White retreated to her bed and picked up her book again, but she didn't read. She lay quietly on her bed for hours, thinking.

In the late afternoon, she rose and went to her balcony. It was high above the main palace courtyard, but she thought that perhaps she could find a way to climb down. But the balcony doors were locked, too.

"They must have come in while I slept and locked those, and then locked me in," Snow said. "But why? Why am I unfit to rule? Am I not my father's daughter?"

She returned to the door and knocked politely. "Please tell the Queen that I would speak with her."

The guard merely grunted in reply.

Snow White stayed in her room for three days. A panel in the bottom of the door slid open twice daily, and a small meal was put through. Every time, Snow White guessed the name of another of her servants, but no one replied. Either they were not the people she had grown up with, or they were forbidden to speak to her.

On the morning of the fourth day, there was a clanking of armor outside the door. Snow White sat up in bed.

"Stepmother?"

The key turned in the lock, and the door opened.

Two guards preceded the Queen into the room. One of them kept his crossbow pointed directly at Snow White as long as the door was open.

"My dear, why are you not dressed?" The Queen sounded shocked.

"No one came for me on my birthday," Snow White said. "There didn't seem much point in getting dressed if I wasn't to leave my room."

The Queen wrinkled her button nose. "But, my dear, what a depressing outlook! And so defeatist!"

"So you're going to let me out of my room?"

The Queen laughed, a delightful toll of small bells. "Don't be silly! My dear, it is for your own safety."

"I am safe enough here, I think," said Snow White. "Who declared me unfit to rule? And why? Am I not my father's daughter?"

The Queen's smile dropped away. "Who told you that?"

Snow White said nothing. She'd forgotten that the guard, too, was forbidden to speak to her. But she knew his name was Thaddeus, and that his father was a blacksmith, and that Princess Agatha had been declared unfit to rule.

"Is it because I was ill?" Snow White asked. "I assure you, Stepmother, that I am quite well and no more prone to illness than you."

"I think you are decidedly more prone to illness than I, my dear," the Queen said coolly. "I have never been ill, and you are ill so often."

"Only trifling colds," Snow White protested. "I am not used to spring weather, or fall, or summer—I am healthy enough, I swear."

"I do not know where you got this notion that you are unfit to rule," said the Queen. "I do not know who would have told you such a thing, or why. It is simply untrue. Who should be more fit to rule Nialba than you, my dear?"

Snow White let it go. "Why am I being confined?"

"I told you." There was a hint of impatience in the Queen's voice. "It is for your own safety."

"Safety from what? Or whom?"

"There are those who would have you killed, and take your father's kingdom for themselves," said the Queen. "They are outside the gates. I confined you to your room to keep you safe." She looked at the immense glass doors that led on Snow White's balcony. "But clearly I have been unwise. If, Aslan forbid, they breach the gates, they could easily reach you here. We should move you to a safer place."

Before Snow White could protest, she was pulled to her feet by the Queen's two guards and frog-marched out of her childhood bedroom.

They took her past Thaddeus, who looked stricken, and up flights of stairs Snow White had never seen before.

The Queen had her put in a high tower room, comfortably but sparsely furnished. The only window was a slit in the wall. Snow White watched the block of sunlight travel across the floor for months on end. The door to this room was thick and tightly barred, and no one spoke to her. She was given no books to read, no entertainment of any kind. Her food was plain and meager, and she received only one skin of water each day.

One day, as Snow White lay on the floor sketching in the sunbeam with charcoal from her fire, a shadow blocked her light.

Snow White looked up, surprised. There was a bird in her window, a magpie. It looked as surprised as she.

"Why, Your Highness!" exclaimed the Magpie. "Whatever are you doing up here?"

"The Queen said that there were people coming to kill me," said Snow White. "I have been confined for my own safety."

"That's nonsense," said the Magpie. "Who would want to kill you? You are our Princess."

"I thought it odd, myself," Snow White said. "But why should the Queen lie?"

"She wants to rule your kingdom herself," said the Magpie. "For nearly a year the Queen has said that you are deathly ill, unfit to rule."

"That's what Thaddeus said, but the Queen said it wasn't true. I believed her. I am a fool," Snow White said bitterly.

"Not a fool, Princess," said the Magpie encouragingly. "Only naïve. We all trusted the Queen. She swore by the Lion's Mane, before all of us! But I suppose that means nothing to a witch like her."

"A witch?"

"Yes," said the Magpie. "She was a supporter of the White Witch. She swore it was untrue, but we see now that it was a lie."

"So she's ruling Nialba uncontested?"

"For now. Those who opposed her have been killed or banished. I myself have been hiding in the woods of Archenland. I only came back to look for some friends of mine, whom I have not heard from. I fear the worst."

"I am sorry," said Snow White. "What's to be done?"

"Well, first we must get you out of here," said the Magpie. "The people will support you. I will tell your people that you are imprisoned, and we will help you escape and reclaim your kingdom! These lands have seen tyrants enough."

"Thank you," said Snow White. "Please, what is your name?"

"They call me Patches," said the Magpie. "Hardly original, but there it is. I will return in a few days, Princess, and we will set you free."

"Thank you," said Snow White again.

Patches bowed and flew away, and Snow White began to draw him on the floor.

A week passed before anything else happened. Snow White filled the room with drawings of magpies, and wished that she were taller so that she could draw on the ceiling.

Near midnight, seven days after Patches's visit, Snow White awoke to a commotion in the hall outside her cell (she'd given up calling it a room).

Snow White rolled out of bed and stood by the window, where she could use the moonlight to her greatest advantage.

There was shouting, and the sounds of metal clashing on metal, Snow White wished desperately for a knife, or a club, or a weapon of any kind. Her father had taught her some self-defense, but not much.

Keys rattled.

"Try that small one," said a gruff voice.

After more scuffling and rattling, the door swung open. Snow White raised her fists.

Three dwarfs entered the room.

"Princess Agatha?"

"Yes," said Snow White. "Who are you?"

"Patches the Magpie told us of your plight," said one of the dwarfs. "We're to take you somewhere safe for the time being."

"I do not know if I can trust you," said Snow White, "but if you get me out of here, that is enough for now. Lead on."

"Haven't you anything warmer to wear? It's chilly outside, Highness, for all that winter is gone."

Snow White shook her head. "The Queen brought me here without letting me dress. I have had no other garment for almost a year."

Another dwarf trotted into the room, bearing a guard's vest, cloak, and trousers. "Here, Highness. Put these one for now. We must make haste!"

Snow White slipped into the vest and buckled it—it was much too large—and threw the cloak over her shoulders, but neglected the breeches for the time being. She was barefoot, but she would survive.

"Sevibrik and Felibrik are waiting for us," said the dwarf who had given Snow White clothes. "They have horses ready. Dormibrik and Stultabrik are holding the gate—for now. Let me go first, Highness."

With two dwarfs in front of her and one behind, Snow White hurried down the stairs she'd climbed months before with her stepmother.

"How have you done all this without raising the alarm?" Snow White asked as they passed yet another guard on the floor. His knee and his head were bleeding.

"We're very sneaky," said one of the dwarfs. "The Magpies have helped."

When they reached the courtyard, eight ponies awaited them, saddled and tacked. A magpie perched on one of the saddles.

"Patches!"

"Quickly, Your Highness," said Patches.

One of the dwarfs helped Snow White into her saddle.

"Hurry!"

Patches took off, and flew over the castle wall.

Snow White kicked her pony into a gallop. Three dwarfs rode in front of her, and two behind. As they passed through the gate, two more dwarfs swung into their saddles. One of them cut a rope, and the portcullis slammed shut behind them.

As they rode over the drawbridge, a shout went up from the guards on the wall.

"Ride on!" shouted one of the dwarfs. He swung down from his saddle as the rest left the bridge, and struck flint. A torch blazed to life in his hand.

Snow White looked over her shoulder as they rode into the woods. The Queen's archers were firing at the dwarf on the drawbridge. He touched his torch to the bridge, and it burst into flame.

They rode north away from the castle, long into the night. Dawn tinted the horizon pink by the time the ponies slowed to a walk and stopped, breathing heavily. A flock of magpies perched in the trees.

The dwarfs swung down from the saddle, and Snow White followed suit. She was stiff; she hadn't ridden in almost a year.

"Will we be safe here?" Snow White asked.

"We're in the Western Wilds now, Your Highness," said Patches. "The Queen will not bother with us here; at least, she hasn't so far. We will keep watch."

"I owe you my gratitude, dwarfs," said Snow White. "But I'm afraid I must ask: why are you hiding in the Western Wilds?"

"Unlike many of our brethren, we did not support the Queen Jadis," said a dwarf. "We were driven out of Narnia when the winter began, and we have remained here since then. Your father was kind to us; he did not dare give us refuge, but he sent supply trains through the woods and did nothing when we robbed them."

"I remember hearing of bands of robbers in the woods," Snow White said. "I never suspected that my father staged the robberies."

"He set them up," another dwarf said testily. "We did the actual staging."

"Peace, Sevibrik," said the first dwarf. "Our lives have not been easy, but King Magnus did as much for us as he could safely do."

"Hmpf," said Sevibrik.

"I am Medibrik," said the first dwarf. "These are my brothers, Sevibrik and Felibrik; my cousins, Dormibrik and Numibrik, my nephew Veribrik, and my son Stultibrik."

Stultibrik was the one who had helped the Princess onto her horse. He smiled dopily at Snow White.

"We should get the horses out of sight, and cover our trail," said Sevibrik.

"Veribrik and I will stable the horses," said Numibrik. "You're our best woodsman, Sevibrik. Go cover our trail."

Sevibrik nodded curtly, handed his reins in Stultibrik, and vanished into the undergrowth.

"This way, Your Highness," said Medibrik. He offered his arm to Snow White, and led her under the hanging branches of a willow tree.

The willow grew up against a cliff. Tucked behind its trunk, in the side of the cliff, was a small hole. Snow White barely fit through it. She slid down a short slope and into a cozy, low-ceilinged room with a ceiling of willow roots. Seven bunks were built into the walls, but a pallet had been set up to one side of the hearth.

"That's your bed, Your Highness," said Medibrik. "One of us would have given up our bed, but I'm afraid our bunks would be too short for you."

"That's quite all right," said Snow White. "I will be comfortable, I'm sure. And it's very generous of you to take me in."

"We're going to help you take back your kingdom, Your Highness," said Felibrik, sliding into the room behind Snow White. "The White Witch is gone. It is a Golden Age. This is no time or place for tyranny such as your stepmother's."

"I agree," said Snow White, "and I thank you."

"There are a number of talking animals who lived in your father's kingdom, who have since fled to the forest," said Medibrik. "They will help us, as will the Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs, Dryads, and Naiads from these parts. There are not as many here as there are in Narnia, but a fair number all the same."

"The Magpie flock has already proven invaluable to us," said Felibrik. "They spy for us. It was the Magpies who found you."

"I know," said Snow White. "Patches did me a great service. I shall never forget any of what has been done for me."

"Why don't you get some sleep, Your Highness," said Felibrik. "We will see about getting you some proper clothing. And tomorrow, our real work will begin."


	2. Chapter 2

After almost four years of guerilla-style rebellion, Citrine remained in power. The White Band, as Snow White's supporters called themselves, made trouble on Nialba's borders and raided the merchant caravans that left the country from Archenland, Calormen, or Narnia. The dwarfs taught their princess to fight with a sword, shoot a bow, and sneak through the woods undetected.

And the false Queen remained in power. Snow White suspected that Citrine had learned some tricks from Jadis. The winters in Nialba were exceptionally long and harsh, and the people didn't seem curious as to what had happened to their princess, or upset at the poor crops and increased taxes.

"If only we had an army large enough to retake the castle, we could physically remove her and all would be well," Sevibrik was fond of saying.

"By 'physically remove' you mean kill," Medibrik responded tersely.

"She deserves it," Sevibrik said. "Treacherous bitch."

"That is the Princess's stepmother," Stultibrik said.

"No, I agree with Sevibrik," said Snow White. "The disease that killed both my parents has never been seen again. Citrine was an apprentice of the White Witch. She has taken my parents and my country from me. I will not rest until she is dead."

"Come on, Snow," said Medibrik. "Yes, your parents died of the same illness. Yes, Citrine supported the Witch during the war. But that is hardly proof that she caused the deaths of King Magnus and Queen Olea, is it? Be reasonable."

Snow White let it drop. "Fine. But she must be removed from the throne by whatever means necessary."

"Which brings me back to my original point," said Medibrik. "What's to be done? We need a large army. The White Band alone could not retake your father's castle."

The seven dwarfs and Snow White were sitting by their fire after a successful raid on one of Citrine's merchant caravans. The merchants had put up little resistance, which only fueled Snow's theory that magic was at play in Nialba. Even if Citrine sponsored them, the contents of those caravans provided the merchants' livelihood. They should have defended themselves. Instead they had stood and watched the White Band empty the wagons and cut the horses out of their traces. Those merchants and their guards were now stranded in the woods with empty wagons, but they had only watched in silence.

"If the people knew you lived, they'd rally to your cause," Felibrik said.

"If the people knew she lived, the Queen would know, and the forest would be razed by the end of the month," Sevibrik said.

"Well, that's the only thing I can think of." Felibrik threw his hands in the air.

"Picking away at the edges isn't doing much to weaken her," said Medibrik. "It seemed like such a good plan, given our limited forces."

"It is a good plan," said Snow. "It should have worked, but it hasn't. So we must try something else."

"I have an idea," said Veribrik quietly.

"We could burn fields of crops," Numibrik suggested.

"I'd prefer not to starve my people," said Snow White. "Especially if they are being manipulated by Citrine. It isn't their fault; it's hers."

"Perhaps the people would join us in the woods," said Dormibrik. "They'd join us, and Citrine's army would starve."

"Maybe," said Medibrik.

"I have an idea," said Veribrik quietly. "And it doesn't involve hurting your people, Your Highness."

"What?" said Snow White. "Speak up, Veribrik. I can hardly hear you when you talk so quietly."

"Sorry, Your Highness." Veribrik was the only dwarf whom Snow hadn't persuaded to call her by name. "I was listening to the Magpies talk about Narnia."

"Narnia?" said several voices.

Veribrik shrank back.

"What about Narnia?" Snow White asked.

"Their army is large and strong," said Veribrik. "Their kings and queens defeated the White Witch. They combat all that is evil in this world. They have driven back the giants in the north. I thought that perhaps—"

Sevibrik snorted, and Veribrik immediately clapped his mouth shut.

Snow White elbowed Sevibrik.

"So you're suggesting that we go to Narnia and ask for their help?" Snow White asked Veribrik.

Veribrik nodded mutely.

"The idea may have merit," said Medibrik.

"I cannot think of a better one," Felibrik said.

Dormibrik said, "Some of us should stay here, don't you think?"

"Yes," said Sevibrik. "We should not let up on Citrine. She might get suspicious. And there should always be a backup plan."

"So it's agreed," said Medibrik. "Some of us will go to Narnia with the Princess, and the others will stay here and carry on as if nothing has changed."

"Very well," said Snow White. "I think that Sevibrik should come with me, and I would like you to come as well, Medibrik, if you think you can be spared."

"I trust Felibrik and Veribrik to handle things," said Medibrik. "I will come with you, Princess. And if I'm going, my son has to come, too."

Stultibrik smiled happily. "I'll be with you, Princess," he said.

They rode north the very next day, into the mountains of Archenland. Snow White had traded her pony in for a horse—stolen—when she turned eighteen, a black gelding she called Blackjack. The three dwarfs rode ponies.

It took them almost a week to travel through Archenland, by back roads and narrow mountain passes. They preferred to avoid detection if at all possible; there was no way of telling how news might travel to Citrine.

Once they were in Narnia proper, the landscape changed drastically. Archenland and Nialba were ruggedly beautiful, but Narnia was a land of rolling hills and bright, open woodlands. Besides that, the woods were alive in ways Snow White had never seen. Occasionally groves of dryads would walk by, their leaves waving sedately. They smiled at the dwarfs, and at Snow White, who traveled with them.

All the animals in Narnia talked. Snow White couldn't get used to it. She was thankful that Blackjack was a Nialban horse. It would be too strange if he started talking to her as they rode.

Medibrik took them east; he reasoned that the Narnian palace, which sat on the eastern sea, would be easier to find this way. He turned out to be right. Cair Paravel perched above the sea like a white bird, visible from miles away. When the sun hit it exactly right, it glowed and scattered pearly light across the sand.

As they approached Cair Paravel and the small town that clustered at its base, Snow White grew nervous. She had no way of proving that her story was true. Why should the Narnian monarchs believe her? What if they had her imprisoned for impersonating royalty? She'd be no help to her people then.

They rode off the beach and into the town. Their appearance drew few stares, as they were hardly the only travelers come to the capital to speak with the Kings and Queens. Snow thought that more people stared at her than the dwarfs. It occurred to her that she, a human, was an outsider here.

A steady stream of petitioners carried them up to the gates of Cair Paravel itself. Ranks of stoic Satyr guards lined the steps, watching the crowd closely. Standing right by the gate was a Faun in a bright red waistcoat. He had a ledger and quill, and was taking down the names of those entering the palace.

Snow White and her retinue reached the head of the queue.

"Name and purpose, please," said the Faun briskly.

Snow opened her mouth, to speak, but Sevibrik put a hand on her stirrup and shook his head.

"The Princess Agatha of Nialba, and her retinue," said Medibrik formally. "She seeks an audience with the High King of Narnia to discuss a private matter."

The Faun looked Snow White up and down. "You look tired and travel-weary, Your Highness," he said.

A tactful way of saying I'm dirty and underdressed, Snow thought.

"Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself before your audience with the Kings and Queens? They will see you once the hours for common petition have passed."

Snow White made to speak again, but Sevibrik squeezed her ankle. She resisted the urge to kick him in the face.

"We appreciate your ready hospitality," said Medibrik.

The Faun snapped his fingers, and a young Wolf trotted to his side. "If you will follow Grimheld, Your Highness, he will take you to a private reception chamber and see that your needs are attended to."

"Thank you," said Snow White. Sevibrik pinched her ankle.

They rode slowly through the gate and off to one side.

The Wolf, Grimheld, bowed. "If you will please follow me, Your Highness."

"What about our horses?" Snow White demanded.

"The stables are just there, and they can make their needs known to the grooms there," said Grimheld, indicating the direction with his head.

Snow White was appalled by his callous attitude. Turn the horses loose in the courtyard and trust that they'd "make their needs known"?

"You misunderstand, Sir Wolf," said Medibrik. "Our horses do not speak for themselves."

"My apologies," said the Wolf. He looked embarrassed.

Snow and the dwarfs led their horses to the stable and handed them off to the grooms, who were all Fauns. Assured of Blackjack's wellbeing, Snow allowed the Wolf to lead her up six flights of stairs to a spacious, airy room on the seaward side of the castle.

"Their Majesties will not be available to see you for several hours," said Grimheld. "Perhaps Your Highness would like a bath?"

"Yes, please," said Snow White. Inwardly she was jubilant; she hadn't had a real bath in years. Bathing in a mountain stream wasn't quite the same.

The Wolf bowed and withdrew. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Stultibrik opened it to admit a veritable army of Naiads, who took Snow into a separate, smaller chamber and gave her a very thorough bath, clicking their tongues all the while at the state of her.


	3. Chapter 3

When Snow White returned to the airy receiving room, she was clean and clad in clean clothes. The Naiads had cooed over her hair, and insisted on leaving it loose. It fell down Snow White's back in gentle waves. She hadn't realized how long it was.

The dwarfs were seated at the edges of the room, similarly clean and well-dressed. Snow had never seen Medibrik's beard so white and fluffy.

Snow White laughed aloud. "Goodness, look at us!"

Stultibrik squirmed. "The breeches itch."

"You're just not used to them," Snow said soothingly. "Stultibrik, would you braid my hair out of my face, please? I couldn't get the Naiads to do a thing with it."

Playing with Snow White's hair was one of Stultibrik's great joys. Snow White sat in a sofa, and Stultibrik stood on it behind her, humming happily as he ran his fingers through the hair. He quickly and efficiently braided two long strands off of Snow's face and then braided them together down her back. The rest of her hair he left loose.

"It's so pretty," Stultibrik said.

"I'd forgotten why they call you Snow White," said Sevibrik gruffly, looking her up and down. "I was thinking we should start calling your Brown Dirt before that bath."

Snow White giggled and stuck her tongue out at him.

Stultibrik bounced on the sofa. "This is a nice, pretty place you've brought us to, Princess," he said happily.

"It is, isn't it?" Snow White gazed raptly out the window at the sea. It glittered in the late afternoon light. "So different from home."

Sevibrik snorted. "Soft, coddled land. Where are the mountains? Real mountains, I mean. None of these fluffy green lumps of dirt."

"Cair Paravel is beautiful," Snow White said wistfully.

"Your palace is beautiful, too, Princess," said Medibrik.

"I haven't seen it in years," said Snow. "I've no idea what it looks like when it's not covered in snow."

"It's pretty enough, but it's a fortress," said Sevibrik. "Guarded against attack. Not like this place."

"I don't know," said Snow White. "Narnians can't be as soft as all that. They drove back the giants in the north, didn't they?"

"That was their monarchs, not them," said Sevibrik. "Here's what I'm thinking: the new Narnian 'kings and queens' they make such a fuss over are conquerors and warlords. They deposed Jadis and took Narnia for themselves. Who'd stop them?"

"Maybe," Snow White said. There was no arguing with Sevibrik. "Don't say that while they're here, though. If you're right, and they are conquerors and warlords, so much the better for us, right?"

"Maybe," Sevibrik said darkly. "Or maybe we're inviting more tyrants into Nialba."

Someone knocked on the door.

"Enter," Snow White called.

The door opened, and Grimheld entered. Behind him was a pair of Dryads pushing a trolley full of food.

"I thought you might be hungry," said the Wolf.

"Yes!" Stultibrik bounced off the couch and hurried to grab a plate.

"Stultibrik," Medibrik said sternly. "Serve your Princess first."

Stultibrik dutifully brought Snow White a plate, then eagerly served himself. There was a variety of pastries, both savory and sweet, as well as some fresh mussels and steamed vegetables.

It was all delicious. Although Medibrik was an excellent cook, his meals tended toward hearty stews and heavy puddings, not the light and delicate flavors of the Narnian food. The fish in particular was exquisite.

Snow White and the dwarfs passed a pleasant afternoon eating and chatting. Grimheld stayed with them, answering questions about Narnia and asking polite questions about Nialba that Snow White evaded. She was reluctant to reveal their dire circumstances just yet. It was the King's business. Kings', Snow corrected herself.

Finally, as the sun was sinking below the horizon, another knock sounded at the door. Grimheld's ears perked up.

"That'll be Their Majesties," he said eagerly.

The Dryads hastily cleared away the empty plates and dirty napkins, and made an exodus with their trolley. A Faun entered the room as the Dryads left. It was the same Faun who had greeted them at the gates, still in his red waistcoat.

"Princess Agatha of Nialba," he said formally, "may I present Their Majesties, the Kings and Queens of Narnia."

Four people entered the room. Snow White was surprised; none of them looked much older than herself. In fact, one of the Queens looked almost exactly her own age.

Snow stood and curtsied.

"The Queen Lucy," said the Faun. The younger Queen stepped forward, curtsied, and gave Snow a dimpled smile. An ornate silver circlet rested on her curly hair.

"The King Edmund." A young man stepped forward, wiry and dark-haired with a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. He bowed deeply. A silver crown sat on his head, very slightly askew.

"The Queen Susan." The other Queen, tall and beautiful with hair as dark and long as Snow White's, curtsied elegantly. Her circlet, more elaborate than the Queen Lucy's, was golden and flowery.

"The High King Peter." He was tall, with golden hair, broad shoulders, and a short golden beard. His crown was golden, too, and larger than King Edmund's. He bowed over Snow White's hand and kissed it.

"We welcome you gladly, fair cousin," said King Peter. It was the custom for monarchs in that part of the world to call each other "cousin," regardless of actual kinship.

"I accept your gracious welcome just as gladly, cousin," Snow White replied. His courtly manners were a pleasant reminder of her childhood.

"Let us be seated," said King Peter.

The dwarfs hesitated, looking to Snow for their cue; did they sit with her as equals, or should they return to the fringes of the room? Snow wasn't sure how the Narnians would react, but she decided that she didn't care.

"Allow me to introduce my dear friends and allies," Snow said. "Medibrik, my chief adviser." Medibrik stood and bowed. "His son, Stultibrik." Stultibrik imitated his father, his brow furrowed in concentration. "And Sevibrik, who leads my army, such as it is."

They all sat.

"Mr. Tumnus said that you would not tell him your exact circumstances," said King Peter. "I must admit, that is intriguing. I confess I am not familiar with Nialba."

"They trade with us, brother," said King Edmund. "They have prospered since the winter ended—or so I thought. The Princess's presence here suggests otherwise."

"It does indeed, Sire," Snow interjected. "Shortly after winter's end, my father, King Magnus, took a second wife: Citrine of the Seven Isles."

"I know that name," said King Peter.

"She was, I believe, a supporter of the Queen Jadis," said Snow White. "But she swore by the Lion's Mane, before my father, myself, and our entire court, that she had acted thus to protect her people."

"It's a cunning strategy," said Queen Lucy.

"We thought so, Your Majesty," said Snow. "Unfortunately, my stepmother was not to be believed. When my father died, my stepmother seized control of the kingdom. She gradually restricted my movements and knowledge, and eventually had me locked away. She claimed that my father had enemies, and I was being confined for my own safety. For a while, I believed her."

"You were imprisoned?" Queen Susan put a hand to her chest. "How dreadful!"

"It wasn't so bad, Your Majesty," said Snow. "She kept me fed, and I was warm enough. Mostly I was bored, and I had no idea what was going on in my kingdom."

"How did you escape?" asked Queen Lucy.

"A Magpie found me in my cell, which was in a high tower," Snow said. "His name is Patches, and he has since become a very dear friend. He informed my supporters on the outside of my predicament, and these dwarfs and their kin came to my rescue at great personal risk. Since then, we have lived as fugitives on the fringes of Nialba and Archenland, trying to make as much trouble for my stepmother as we can. We do not have the forces to engage her directly. It has been four years, and she remains as strong as ever. We come to Your Majesties in dire need of military aid, and I am afraid that we can offer no compensation aside from my gratitude. Please understand that we would not ask this of you if we felt that we had any other option."

Once Snow White finished, there was a moment of silence. The Kings and Queens traded significant glances. Snow wondered about their relationships (who ever heard of two Kings and two Queens?). Were they married? King Edmund had called King Peter "brother," yet they looked nothing alike.

"It is a fantastic story," said King Peter.

"Indeed," said Queen Susan.

Snow's heart sank. They didn't believe her. "I realize that I have no way to prove any of what I claim," she said.

"You don't," said King Edmund, "but I think we believe you."

Snow stared at him. "You do?"

"The Lady Citrine was one of the White Witch's most ardent supporters," said King Edmund. "I remember hearing of her marriage after the war. I wish now that I had looked into it further."

"We did not know your father," said King Peter. "We are strangers here."

"Then why do you believe me?" Snow asked. "I'm sorry, I suppose I ought to be grateful—and I am grateful—but I don't understand. A strange girl comes to your castle in the company of dwarfs, claims to be a Princess, and tells you a story that you yourselves admit is fantastic."

"I only meant it's fantastic how you have endured," said King Peter. "You say you lived in the woods for four years, on the run and fighting guerilla style. Before that you were imprisoned by your stepmother."

"Your story is too far-fetched to be made up," King Edmund said bluntly. "And I admit that the facts align with what we know. The merchant caravans from Nialba have become few and far between in the last four years. It would appear that we have you to blame for that, Your Highness."

"I only meant to create trouble for Citrine," said Snow White with dignity. "I apologize for any inconvenience that my small-scale rebellion has caused you."

"Forgive me, Your Highness," said King Edmund. "I spoke partially in jest."

Snow White flushed.

"We shall have to meet with our war ministers before we can give you a concrete answer," said King Peter, "but rest assured we will help you in any way that we can. Until we arrive at a conclusion, you are more than welcome to stay in Cair Paravel. I think you will find it very comfortable here."

"In fact," said Queen Susan, "we're having a Midsummer ball here tomorrow night. I'm sure we can find you something to wear, and you can attend as our guest."

Snow White stiffened. "Thank you, Your Majesty, but it seems erroneous to take part in your revelry when my people are starving."

"Of course," said Queen Susan smoothly. "We understand. We only hope that you might take your mind of your troubles for a time, and take some well-earned rest."

"I accept your gracious invitation," Snow White said, "and apologize for my quick overreaction."

"It wasn't an overreaction," said Queen Lucy. "It's perfectly right. But I doubt your people would begrudge you a night of joy, when you have fought so hard for them."

"They wouldn't, Princess," said Stultibrik earnestly.

Snow White reached for his hand and squeezed it.


	4. First Interlude

The Kings and Queens of Narnia convened that night in their private sitting room, all in their dressing gowns. It was a tradition they'd started as soon as they came to Cair Paravel, when Lucy was still prone to nightmares of a war in a land they barely remembered now.

"Princess Agatha certainly is tough," said Susan. "I don't know that I could do what she has done."

"Indeed, Su," said Lucy. "I doubt you could go without a proper bath that long."

Susan playfully smacked her sister's leg.

"I'm rather impressed by her," said Peter. "She seems intelligent, and focused, and the dwarfs with her seem to adore her."

"Jadis's servants were all dwarfs," said Edmund quietly.

"Yes, but not all Narnian dwarfs supported her," Lucy said. "There were dwarfish fugitives, Mr. Tumnus tells me. Besides, we already agreed to help her. We cannot revoke that help now simply because of the company she keeps. If they are loyal to her, that is what matters. You can hardly say that Jadis's dwarfs 'adored' her, could you, Ed?"

"No," Edmund admitted. "They were afraid of her."

"I like her," Lucy said. "She's strong, and smart. The Talking Animals of her kingdom support her. The Talking Animals are never wrong about people. They're like dumb animals that way—or are dumb animals like them?"

Edmund chuckled. Lucy never let him dwell on memories of Jadis for long.

"She certainly is pretty," said Susan. "Not that it matters, but she looks well for someone who's lived in the woods for four years."

"Are you jealous, Su?" Peter teased.

Susan took off one of her bedroom slippers and threw it at Peter's head. He dodged it, laughing.

"Where's that legendary marksmanship?" Peter said teasingly.

Susan laughed. "You know it's harder with a moving target. Give me my slipper, please. My feet are cold."

Peter tossed it back to her.

"We should have paid closer attention," said Edmund.

The other three stared, not sure what he was talking about.

"The signs were there," Edmund said. "Citrine's presence in Nialba should have been warning enough. I confess I didn't think much of it when trade with them dropped off. I thought perhaps they'd begun a relationship with Telmar, or Archenland. Those are, after all, their immediate neighbors."

"This isn't your fault," Lucy said. "It's hers—Citrine's, I mean. Agatha herself said that she trusted her stepmother until it was too late."

"Yes, but—"

"Yes but nothing, Ed," Lucy said. "Citrine was a supporter of Jadis. You know better than anyone that Jadis could make people trust her. Who's to say Citrine isn't the same?"

Edmund frowned. "You don't suppose Citrine's a Witch, too?"

"I doubt it," said Susan.

"It is a possibility," said Peter. "We should keep that in mind."

"I hope it isn't true," Lucy said. "It would make things harder. This will be difficult enough. I only hope that Oreius agrees to send an army, however small."

"I wonder if the Princess could give us an estimate of Citrine's strength?" Peter said.

"If she can't, I bet her advisers could," said Edmund. "That Sevibrik kind of reminds me of Gniarrbrik, but not as cruel. Gniarrbrik was an observant little bastard. I'm sure the dwarfs can tell us whatever the Princess can't."

"I would imagine you're right," said Susan. "We should go to bed. Tomorrow will be busy. We have to meet with the war ministers, and the ball—"

"You've got the ball well in hand, Su," said Peter. "You don't have to come to the war meeting if you don't want to."

"Well, someone has to run Narnia while you're all off at war," Susan said.


	5. Chapter 4

The Narnian Minster of War was a tall, imposing Centaur named Oreius. Snow White was a little afraid of him—there weren't any centaurs in Nialba—but she tried not to show it. Oreius interrogated her about the state of Nialba. How many soldiers did Citrine have? How many did the Princess have? Were the kingdom's road systems intact? How thick were the castle walls?

Snow answered as best she could, with Sevibrik and Medibrik chiming in as needed. They didn't need to speak much, however, and Snow knew that she was impressing the Narnians with the extent of her knowledge. That was a point in her favor.

Finally, Oreius seemed satisfied. "Thank you, Your Highness. I apologize for the multitude of questions, but I must know the full extent of the situation in order to best combat it."

"I understand," said Snow graciously. She appreciated his apology. He seemed like a capable general. She was starting to understand how the Kings and Queens had taken Narnia from Jadis, considering that Queen Lucy must have been around nine at the time.

"What do you think, Oreius?" asked King Peter. "Surely we can afford to send as much aid as Princess Agatha requires."

Snow started; no one had called her Agatha in years.

"I think so, Your Majesties," Oreius said. "I am going to formally recommend three battalions and six companies, of mixed species. The terrain in Nialba is rougher than we are accustomed to; I think that at least one of those companies should be comprised entirely of Dwarfs."

King Peter nodded. "At least one of us should accompany the campaign," he said. "The King Edmund and I, I think."

"You're not leaving me behind," Queen Lucy said fiercely.

"That leaves only the Queen Susan to run the country in your absence," said Oreius.

"Queen Susan is more than capable of the task," King Edmund said.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Oreius bowed his head.

"So we are agreed?" King Peter looked around the table, at the other generals and his—brother? Wife? Sister-in-law? Snow still wasn't sure—and at Snow and Medibrik and Sevibrik. "Does that seem adequate, Your Highness?"

Snow glanced at Sevibrik, unsure. He nodded.

"I believe so, Your Majesty, and I thank you for your support," said Snow White formally. "I do not know how we might repay your generosity—"

King Peter waved this away. "It's the right thing to do. We can discuss the future when the future is upon us."

Snow White frowned but let the matter drop. Surely he didn't mean that, about not planning the future at all. It seemed like an absurd view for a King to take.

"We are adjourned," said Oreius, banging a gavel on the table. The Narnians bowed to the Kings and Queen, who escorted Snow out of the room.

"Susan wanted me to take you straight to our quarters," Queen Lucy said. It sounded almost like an apology. "She's got a few dresses she thinks might fit you. For the ball," she added, in response to Snow's blank look.

"Will my friends be allowed to attend?" Snow wished she'd thought of a better word to use for the dwarfs than "friends." It was accurate, but they were among strangers.

Queen Lucy smiled. "Of course." She turned to Medibrik. "If you will return to your quarters from last night, you will find that baths and suits have been prepared for you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Medibrik. "Snow, we'll see you later?"

"I look forward to it," Snow said with a smile.

Queen Lucy steered Snow away by the elbow, up winding stairs and through gilded halls. The Kings went with them, and the three Narnians chattered at each other the whole way. Snow was increasingly confused by the relationships between the four monarchs. They were so familiar with each other. But surely Queen Lucy must be married to one of the Kings, and Queen Susan the other?

Finally, a pair of Faun footmen opened doors to admit them into an immense, bright room with a wide balcony that faced the sea. All the windows were open, and the sea breeze in Snow's face was delightful.

"Our private sitting room," said Queen Lucy. "All of our rooms are off it. I'm there, Su's there, that's Ed's room, and Peter's there."

"Do you not sleep with your husband?" Snow asked, confused. She knew it was the custom in some countries for monarchs to sleep separately, but it hadn't been the case with her parents, and the Narnians seemed to be on good terms.

King Peter laughed, throwing his head back and slapping his knee. Queen Lucy giggled, and King Edmund chuckled.

"Sorry, sorry," said Queen Lucy. "It's a common mistake. We're all siblings. None of us is married to each other."

"Four siblings, ruling together?" said Snow. "I've never heard of such a thing."

King Peter shrugged. "The four thrones in Cair Paravel have sat thus since the beginning of time. Who are we to question the Lion's will?"

"But four empty thrones does not necessarily explicate the Lion's will," Snow said.

"No, but his presence at our coronation does," Edmund said drily.

"What?" Snow was stunned. "Aslan—the Lion—Aslan Himself—was at your coronation?" She didn't want to say that she didn't believe in Aslan, because that wasn't quite true, but…

"He put the crowns on our heads," said Queen Lucy. Her face glowed when she spoke of it. "He blessed our reign. 'Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a Queen or King.'"

Snow's mouth was agape. "What's he like?"

"Like everything you've ever heard, and more," said King Peter. He, too, almost seemed to glow when he spoke of the Lion.

"His grace is everlasting," said King Edmund quietly. He was smiling broadly, but not quite as exuberantly as Queen Lucy or King Peter.

"There you are!" Queen Susan came into the room from her bedroom. "I was starting to worry. Ed, Peter, I've laid out your clothes for you. Don't forget to bathe before you dress, and Edmund, I will be checking that you've washed behind your ears."

"Yes, 'Mum,'" said King Edmund mockingly.

Queen Susan smiled at Snow. "Please come with me, Your Highness. We'll get you cleaned up and dressed. Lu, would you like to help?"

"Please! I've been thinking through my wardrobe all morning," said Queen Lucy. "I think I've some things that might fit you. You're not very tall."

Thus began such a flurry of bathing, grooming, dressing, and preening as Snow had ever known. It reminded her of when her mother was alive, although the gowns were much more brightly colored. Then again, it was summer now, and Queen Olea had died in the bleakest of winters.

A few Dryad handmaidens came to help them bathe. Again they cooed over Snow's hair, but Queen Susan got them to actually style it. The shining, raven mass of hair was braided and twisted atop Snow's head. Snow wished Stultibrik was there, to learn how to style it the same way.

Queen Susan herself applied charcoal to Snow's eyes and color to her lips—but not much of either, thank goodness. Queen Lucy flitted in and out of the room, holding gowns up to Snow for Queen Susan's nod or shake of the head.

Snow tried on six different dresses before the Queens were satisfied. They put her in an old gown of Queen Lucy's, forest green delicately worked over with silver thread. The Queens pooled their jewelry to find a necklace, earrings, and tiara that they liked on Snow.

The whole while, Queen Lucy and Queen Susan were talking. They were friendly to the Dryads and affectionate with each other, and both were eager that Snow should feel welcome and have a lovely time despite her troubles. They didn't say as much, but Snow could think of no other reason for them to dance attendance on her so. Queen Lucy told jokes and charming anecdotes, and Queen Susan was gracious and sweet.

"There!" Queen Susan adjusted the tiara on Snow White's head and stepped back. "Agatha, you look absolutely stunning."

Queen Lucy nodded fervently, her hands clasped together. "Oh, do look at yourself in the mirror, Agatha. You're beautiful, you really are."

Snow White stepped in front of the full-length mirror. She hardly recognized the girl within the gilt frame. That girl hadn't been on the run for four years, had never slept in a tree or crawled through bushes with a sword clutched in her hand. But then Snow saw the scar on her shoulder, the tan on her face, the circles under her eyes. She was still herself.

"You've been very kind to me," Snow said. "I am very fortunate to have found such good allies and friends in Narnia. And so I must tell you—no one except my stepmother calls me Agatha."

"Oh, thank Aslan!" Queen Lucy wrinkled her nose. "I didn't much like that name on you, anyway. What should we call you?"

"Ever since I was a little girl, everyone has called me Snow White. That is what my parents called me, and that is what my friends call me."

"Snow White," Queen Susan said. "That's lovely."

"Please don't call us 'Queen' anymore, either," said Queen Lucy. "It's so formal. We're going to war together, Snow White. And we are friends, as you say. So I am Lucy, and she is Susan."

Snow smiled.


	6. Second Interlude

Susan has outdone herself, Edmund thought.

The Great Hall of Cair Paravel was lavishly decorated with garlands, candles, and ribbon. The tables were laden with food, the candlesticks glistened, the band of Fauns and Satyrs was lively and skilled. It would be a memorable Midsummer.

"How should we enter?" Peter asked.

Edmund jumped; he hadn't heard his brother approach. "What do you mean?"

"Well, usually I escort Susan and you escort Lucy. But we've a guest—a royal guest—and it wouldn't do for her to walk in alone, don't you think?"

"You're probably right," Edmund said. "I'm not sure what's best to do here."

"We'll ask the girls when they get here," Peter said. "Susan will know what the proper etiquette would be."

As if summoned, Susan and Lucy hurried up. Princess Agatha was in their wake, clad in a forest-green gown that hugged her slim torso before fanning out into a broad skirt. The gown had long, flowing sleeves, and whoever had dressed her—Susan, probably—had chosen to keep the jewelry simple, highlighting the ethereal quality of her delicate, pale shoulders and collarbones. Her ebony hair was swept up off her neck, and wisps of it trailed around her pale face, dominated by her wide, earnest gray eyes.

She looks beautiful, Edmund thought. But she's so thin. Comes from being on the run for four years, I expect.

"What's the matter?" Susan asked.

"What makes you think something's the matter?" Edmund asked.

"Your faces," said Susan. "Out with it."

"We were just wondering who should walk with whom into the ball," Peter said. "It seems right that I take Princess Agatha, and then Ed would take you, Su, but where does that leave Lucy?"

"Mr. Tumnus can take me in," Lucy said. "He is a Knight of Narnia, after all."

Susan nodded. "That will do."

"Lovely! I'll go fetch him." Lucy darted away in search of her dearest Narnian friend.

"How does it look out there?" Susan peeped through the door. "Nobody's dancing!"

"They're not supposed to until we get there, Su," said Edmund patiently. "Relax. It'll be a great party. It always is."

"You're right, Ed." Susan laughed. "I'm being silly."

"Always," Edmund said solemnly.

Susan elbowed him.

Lucy reappeared, her arm looped through Tumnus's. "Shall we?"

"Yes, I suppose it is time." Peter nodded to the Faun herald and offered his arm to Princess Agatha. "Shall we, Your Highness?"

"You're very gracious," Princess Agatha said, taking Peter's arm. She was slightly flushed, but Peter tended to have that effect on women.

Faun footmen opened the double doors, and the herald cried out, at the top of his considerable goatish lungs:

"His Majesty High King Peter of Narnia, Her Highness Princess Agatha of Nialba, Her Majesty Queen Susan, His Majesty King Edmund, Her Majesty Queen Lucy, Sir Tumnus of Narnia!"

The guests all bowed and curtsied, then applauded for their monarchs and the beautiful guest. Edmund spotted familiar faces in the crowd: a few guests from the Lone Islands, a few from Terebinthia, several from Archenland, and of course Narnians. Some of the wolves who patrolled the Western Wood on Edmund's behalf were present. Grimheld was there, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Edmund smiled at the Wolf, who was a particular friend of his.

Peter led Princess Agatha up to the dais, where an extra throne had been set between his and Edmund's. He graciously helped her to sit before seating himself. Edmund seated Susan and went to his own throne; Tumnus seated Lucy, bowed, and withdrew.

Peter raised one hand, and the room quieted.

"Welcome, honored guests, beloved friends, to Cair Paravel," Peter said. "Let us celebrate tonight the passing of Midsummer, and the presence of the fair Princess Agatha of Nialba, who has been a stranger to us until now. Enjoy yourselves, please!" He clapped his hands, and the band began to play.

For the first few songs, the monarchs sat on their thrones while guests came to greet them personally. Some were dear friends, while others were diplomatic presences. Peter greeted them all with equal warmth, and introduced them to Princess Agatha, who seemed decidedly uncomfortable with all the attention.

The Nialban dwarfs waddled up the steps of the dais and settled around their Princess. The general and adviser stood on either side of her, and the third dwarf sat at her feet and gazed up at her adoringly. Agatha smiled down at him.

That's the first time I've seen her smile, Edmund thought. Then again, it's unlikely she's had much to smile about lately.

The Duke of Galma approached the dais as the stream of guests was dying down. The band struck up a lively waltz.

The Duke bowed. "Perhaps the Princess Agatha would care to dance?"

"I would, sir," said the Princess. "But I warn you, it has been some time since I danced in a ballroom."

"I have no fears, Princess," the Duke said. "You are the very picture of grace."

He took her onto the dance floor for the first real dance of the ball. Peter took Susan to the floor, which left Edmund and Lucy to dance together.

"Shall we, fair sister?" Edmund offered Lucy his hand.

Lucy smiled. "I like dancing with you better than Peter. He's too tall for me to dance with comfortably."

Together, the three royal couples began to waltz around the hall, and other nobility quickly joined in.

"I feel bad for Snow," Lucy said. "I thought she'd enjoy forgetting her worries for a night. It never occurred to me that she hasn't been to a ball in years. The poor dear is far out of her comfort zone."

"Snow?" Edmund repeated quizzically.

"She said that nobody calls her Agatha except her stepmother." Lucy wrinkled her nose. "We can't address her like Citrine does, can we?"

"All right. But why Snow?"

Lucy shrugged. "Apparently everyone calls her Snow White. Maybe because she was born in the winter? It sounds like something out of a fairytale, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like that Disney cartoon," Edmund said. "Do you remember? Dad took us to see it before the war."

"I do—but barely," Lucy said. "What was it called, again?"

"I don't remember," Edmund said, "but I know the princess's name was something like that. Blue something?"

Lucy giggled. "Gosh, I'd forgotten all about that. I miss Dad and Mum, when I remember to think about them."

"Me, too," Edmund said. "But I don't think of them often, which is sad, too."

"I think Aslan keeps us from remembering too much, so we aren't sad," said Lucy. "He wants us to live here and now, in Narnia."

"You might be right," Edmund said. Lucy's faith in the Lion was bolstering.

The first waltz ended, and everyone applauded the band. Tumnus claimed Lucy for the next dance, and Peter was dancing with a Terebinthian countess, so Edmund danced with Susan.

"Galma's still dancing with Snow," Susan said as the music started up. "Do you think she's having fun?"

Edmund glanced over at Snow White. She was smiling at the Duke, but he thought that her smile looked forced. "She looks a bit overwhelmed," he said.

"That's what I thought," said Susan. "Ed, dance with her next, won't you?"

"Why would that help her feel better?" Edmund asked, laughing.

"She at least knows you," Susan said. "And I'd hate for her to sit out."

"She won't sit out once," said Edmund. "I'd bet on that."

Susan laughed. "You would, would you? How unseemly. A King of Narnia gambling!"

"I'd win, too." Edmund winked. "She's beautiful, she's a novelty—she'll not want for dance partners all night."

"Well, you tell her that if she wants to sit out she only has to say so," Susan said. "I don't want her feeling too uncomfortable."

"Ever the perfect hostess," Edmund said.

"Oh, stop. I was just starting to enjoy myself, and now you've got me worried." Susan looked over Edmund's shoulder. "Is there enough food, do you think?"

"They've been eating all day, they'll be fine," Edmund said. "And if there's enough wine, the food doesn't matter."

"Do you think there's enough wine?"

"Susan, relax, please! It's all going fine. You're meant to have fun now."

By the end of the dance, Susan did look more relaxed. She was smiling, and radiant, and Edmund knew she was attracting attention. Susan was whisked away as soon as the song ended, and Edmund looked quickly for Snow White.

The Duke of Galma seemed intent on dancing with her a third time, but Edmund cut in smoothly.

"May I, Your Grace? You cannot keep my own guest from me," said Edmund.

The Duke bowed and withdrew, looking a bit sour.

The band struck up a lively Narnian reel.

Snow White looked alarmed. "I don't know this one! What is this?"

"It's a traditional Faun dance," said Edmund. "It's easy; Fauns aren't much for stiff dance forms. It is fast, though."

Then the music started in earnest, and there was no breath for talking. Snow White gripped Edmund's hands tightly, but she picked up the steps quickly, and she was light on her feet. Soon she was smiling, and flushed with excitement and exertion.

Fauns and Dryads joined the mass on the dance floor. It was how they danced on Dancing Lawn, which Edmund had only visited a handful of times. Those events were wild and exuberant, but the dance transferred fairly well to a ballroom setting.

Snow White relaxed her grip on his hands, and even looked around the room a bit. Her red mouth formed a perfect, round O as a Faun leapt into the air, clicked his hooves together seven times, and landed, still in time to the music.

Edmund laughed at her expression.

"They're nimble, aren't they?" He had to shout over the music.

"Sorry, what? I couldn't hear you," Snow White yelled.

Edmund leaned in. "They're nimble, aren't they?"

"Yes!" she shouted back.

"You should see them on Dancing Lawn," Edmund yelled, still leaning close to her. "They're really in their element there."

The song ended shortly after, and the applause was thunderous. The musicians bowed, and a few of them left the stage for wine and food. They were immediately replaced, however, and the music continued.

"I don't recognize this one, either," Snow White said.

"It's a Dryad dance," said Edmund. "You can sit it out, if you want."

"No, I want to learn it," she said. "Can you teach me?"

"Of course. It's a lot like a waltz. Put your hand here." Edmund took her small, pale hand—surprisingly calloused—and placed it on his shoulder. "And then my hands go here." He placed them gently on her waist. "And your other hand holds my elbow there."

"Like this?" Her grip was firm.

"Exactly like. Since it's a Dryad dance, the lady actually does the leading," Edmund said. "Steer me by the elbow, and it's a seven-beat measure—there, you've got it."

They glided smoothly around the floor with the other couples. Some of the Dryads were dancing with each other, while others had claimed Faun or even human partners. Susan was dancing with a Lord of the Seven Isles, Peter with a Naiad, and Lucy with a young duke of Archenland who looked smitten.

Edmund raised an eyebrow at Lucy, who raised an eyebrow in return. Edmund smiled. Lucy would turn into a terrible flirt if they didn't watch out.

"Your castle is very beautiful," Snow White said abruptly. Edmund wondered if she was feeling the need to fill the silence.

"Thank you. We certainly think so," Edmund said.

"Sevibrik says that Narnia is a soft land," said Snow White. "I am not so sure. Your people fought to free all of us from the White Witch."

"Narnia is peaceful and beautiful, yes, but not soft," Edmund said. "We've fought hard for what we have, and I don't think anyone takes it for granted."

"That is what I thought, but I couldn't say as much to Sevibrik." Snow White smiled. "He cannot be argued with easily."

"You're very fond of him," Edmund said.

"Of all of them," Snow White said. "They've been so good to me, and brave, and kind. The truest of friends, really."

"We all thought they seem very loyal," said Edmund. "I knew you couldn't be evil if your subjects felt that way about you."

Snow White looked taken aback. "And that's why you decided to trust me?"

"I can't speak for my siblings, but that's what persuaded me you were who you said you were," said Edmund. "That kind of loyalty is born of love, not fear."

"I could say the same of you," Snow White said. "It is plain to me that the Narnians love you, for all that you are strangers here. I've never seen a people so devoted to their monarchs."

Edmund's face warmed. What she said was true, but it embarrassed him to hear it.

"I owe you and your siblings an eternal debt of gratitude," said Snow White. "You've been so gracious, and welcoming, and trusting. I confess, I didn't expect you to aid us so readily. I was not sure that you would help us at all."

"Peter's very righteous," Edmund said. "Restoring a monarch to her rightful throne and deposing a tyrant is the culmination of all he believes in."

"Yet I heard a Dryad call you 'the Just,'" Snow White said. "You must be as righteous as your brother."

"That's generous," Edmund said, "but justice does not always equate kindness. Sometimes I have to do things that seem harsh, even if it's the right thing. They don't call me 'the Just' then."

"What do they call you?"

 _Traitor._ "It doesn't matter."

The song ended, and Snow White stepped away. Edmund hadn't realized how close they'd been until she moved away, leaving a cold space.

"I think I might like to eat," she said.

"Of course," said Edmund.

She looked at him expectantly.

Oh, she wants me to come with her, Edmund thought. He offered his arm, and she looped her hand through his elbow.


	7. Chapter 5

Snow wondered if this what how her fifteenth birthday was supposed to be. A brightly lit ballroom, a beautiful dress, a bevy of dance partners. She hardly got to sit down, so many men wanted to dance with her. Lucy introduced Snow to some of her friends, including a handsome young duke who was clearly besotted with Lucy but danced two waltzes with Snow. Probably to ingratiate himself with Lu, Snow thought.

Susan was radiant. She moved around the ballroom like a brightly colored bird, seeing to it that everyone was having fun while having a wonderful time herself. Could I have been like that, Snow wondered. Is that what my mother was like?

Peter was very popular with the young women, Dryads, and Naiads. Snow might have liked to dance with him, but he was never available. He is very beautiful, Snow thought. He looks like a lion, with his golden hair flowing like that. If Peter is a lion, then Edmund is a panther. A graceful, dark-haired panther.

Snow and Edmund were sitting on their thrones, resting from a lively series of Narnian dances. They were so different from the few Nialban dances that Snow knew, which were stately and stiff in comparison. Mr. Tumnus had brought them wine, and was perched on the arm of Snow's chair.

"You're enjoying yourself, Your Highness?" the Faun asked.

"Very much," Snow said. "And I'm not just saying that to be polite."

Edmund smiled into his wine.

"Queen Susan certainly knows how to put together a party," Mr. Tumnus said.

"How long have you known Their Majesties?" Snow asked.

Mr. Tumnus smiled. "Oh, I've known Queen Lucy since she was a little girl and stumbled into Narnia from Spare Oom."

"Spare Oom?" Snow looked to Edmund for clarification. He offered none.

"Yes," said Tumnus. "She was fascinated by the lamppost."

"Sorry, what's a lamppost?"

"It's like a big torch, only the fire is in a little glass house at the top," said Tumnus. "I grew up in Lantern Waste, Your Highness. I've always thought it was beautiful, but I never thought much about it. Lucy asked what it was doing there, and I said I didn't know." He smiled. "She was so bright and curious. I'd never met a human, but she wasn't at all like I thought she'd be. I gave her a lovely tea, and escorted her home."

"All the way back to Spare Oom?"

"No. I'm not sure how she got back. But she returned to Narnia with her sister and brothers, and Aslan returned to us, and the rest is history."

"He's skimming over the nasty bits," Edmund said.

"Why remember the 'nasty bits,' Your Majesty, when we are all so happy now?"

"The nasty bits make us strong, so we can fight for happiness," Snow White said.

Edmund raised his glass. "Well said."

"Indeed, Your Highness," said Mr. Tumnus. "You are wise beyond your years."

Snow flushed.

Lucy came prancing onto the dais. "Why are you all sitting around like a bunch of sad mushrooms?"

"We're not mushrooms, Lu, we're just resting," Edmund said.

"And reminiscing," said Mr. Tumnus. "Do you remember, Your Majesty, the first time that we met?"

"I do!" Lucy laughed gleefully. "You asked if I were a beardless dwarf!"

"And you said that you were tallest in your class," said Mr. Tumnus. "I still have no idea what that means."

"Nor do I," Lucy said, frowning thoughtfully. "But it seemed dreadfully important at the time."

"Tallest in your class, and now you're a wee thing," Edmund said teasingly.

"Ed, be nice! Snow's the same height as me!"

"Yeah, and you're both in danger of being stepped on at any moment."

Snow gasped indignantly. Half a moment later she realized that he was only teasing. Lucy hardly seemed offended.

Peter joined them. "It looks bad if we're all clustered up here like gossiping schoolgirls," he said.

"You're probably right." Edmund drained the rest of his wine and set the glass on the floor. "Back into the fray, eh, Lu?"

"You're such a spoilsport," said Lucy, laughing.

Edmund offered his arm to Lucy, and they swept onto the dance floor. Tumnus took the tray of wine away.

"I'm afraid I haven't been a very good host to you tonight," Peter said.

"It's all right," Snow said. "You've a lot of other guests."

Peter made a face. "Yes, and they won't leave me alone. Half the nobility in the world want me to marry their daughters." He sat down on his throne. "Oof! I didn't realize how tired my feet were."

Snow laughed. "Nor did I, until I sat. Now I don't think I can get up again. I shall have to be carried upstairs."

Peter smiled.

"You know, I can't thank you enough for all you're doing for me," said Snow.

"Of course," Peter said. "You are the rightful ruler of Nialba."

"Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'll be good at it."

"It'll work out. Everything will be as it should be," said Peter.

Snow said nothing.

Mr. Tumnus approached the dais again and bowed. "May I have a dance with the Princess?"

"You may."

Snow was nervous about dancing with a Faun, simply because she'd never done it before, but it was no problem. Tumnus, with his bowed goat legs, was almost exactly the same height as herself, and that made things easier. They danced a Faun jig together.

When the jig ended, the Dryad waltz started up again. Snow backed to the edge of the dance floor. The Dryad waltz was so intimate.

"Snow?" It was Edmund. "Would you like to dance this one?"

"Yes." She hesitated; surely she couldn't just place her hand on his shoulder?

Edmund took her hand and put it on his shoulder. Snow stepped closer to him, and he placed his hands on her waist. Snow gripped his elbow in her other hand, and they began the dance. Now that she was familiar with the steps, Snow felt more relaxed. It was a slow, graceful dance.

"I should bring some of these dances back to Nialba with me," she said.

"Yes." Edmund smiled. "And then you will have an excuse to invite us to balls in your palace."

"My palace isn't like Cair Paravel," Snow said apologetically. "It's a fortress, built to protect the King."

"I'm sure it's still lovely," Edmund said. "And it will be nice to be home, won't it?"

"I suppose. It will seem so dark compared to here, or the forest. I think I might feel closed in."

Edmund nodded. "But you won't be a prisoner. You can go out into the forest whenever you want."

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't be talking like that," Snow said. "Not here and now."

"We could go outside and talk, if you like."

Snow shook her head. "I shouldn't steal you away from your other guests."

"You're the guest of honor," Edmund said. "At least—I think you are. We never actually cleared that with the proper authorities."

"Proper authorities?" Snow laughed. "You're a king."

"Yes," Edmund said, "but we're bound tight by traditions we don't know or understand. This is a strange place to us, even though we've been here for ten years."

"Where are you from, really?" Snow asked. "Where is Spare Oom? I've never heard of it—not that I'm an authority on geography."

"Very far," Edmund said.

"So how did Lucy pop into Narnia for afternoon tea, and then just go home? It doesn't make any sense."

"We still don't understand it ourselves. We didn't know she'd gone."

"So your sister ran away from home, and none of you noticed?"

"That's not quite what happened." Edmund looked uncomfortable.

"But you did defeat the White Witch."

"Yes," Edmund said.

He's very terse all of a sudden, Snow thought.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop asking questions," she said.

"It's very complicated," said Edmund. "I'd rather not talk about it here and now."

They finished the dance in silence. When the music ended, King Edmund bowed. "I think I'll retire for the night," he said. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Snow White curtsied deeply. "The hospitality of your home does you credit." She started to move away, but Edmund caught her elbow.

"Forgive me." His dark eyes were fixed earnestly on hers. "I want to make sure that someone told you how beautiful you look tonight."

Snow's face warmed. "Thank you." Lucy and Susan had told her so, and Stultibrik had been effusive, but it was different when Edmund said it. "You're very kind."

Edmund walked quickly off the dance floor. Snow watched him weave through the crowd and take the stairs out of the ballroom two at a time.

"Ed's off to bed already?" King Peter had approached without Snow noticing.

Snow had to look up to talk to Peter. "I suppose it is getting late."

"Ed's not much for parties," Peter said. He smiled. "May I have this waltz?"

"You may." Snow accepted his hand, and the dance began.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Your Highness?" Peter asked.

"Very much," Snow said. "Everyone has been so welcoming."

"I noticed you dancing with the Duke of Galma," said Peter. "How do you find him?"

Snow bit her lip. "He's very persistent," she said finally.

Peter laughed. "He is that. He's finally given up pursuing Susan, thank the Lion, but I am sorry that he's switched his attentions to you."

"It's certainly different from what I'm used to," said Snow. "But I suppose that a princess thought dead is something of a novelty, isn't it?"

"You're more than a novelty," Peter said. "Everyone is very taken with you. People keep asking me where I 'found you,' and they don't seem to believe the answer I give."

"And what answer is that?"

"That a charming stranger turned up on my doorstep claiming to be a lost princess who lives in the woods with dwarfs and is fighting for her country's freedom."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Peter shrugged. "Evidently so. I think it's unwillingness to believe that a woman can be more than just beautiful. Susan gets the same reaction at archery tournaments. As if she cannot be beautiful, charming, graceful, and handy in a fight. They want to put her in a little box, and she just doesn't fit."

"I see," said Snow. Prowess at archery certainly didn't fit well with what she already knew about Susan—then again, the four monarchs had won their country from a Witch.

"You remind me a lot of Susan," Peter said. "Except you come right out and say what you're thinking."

"My father would be appalled," said Snow.

Peter threw back his head and laughed. The women in the immediate vicinity glared at Snow for causing him such mirth. Snow shrugged at them, trying to convey that she wasn't interested in playing that game. Not right now, anyway.

"What was he like? Your father?" Peter asked.

"He was a stern but fair king," said Snow. "He died when I was still too young to know much about politics. I think that's how Citrine pushed me out: my own naiveté."

"But that wasn't your fault," said Peter.

"Wasn't it? I don't know. How old were you when you took the throne?"

"Almost fourteen," said Peter.

"See? You were expected to rule Narnia at that age. Why was the same not expected of me? I should have been prepared to combat usurpers, but I was not."

"You mustn't blame yourself," Peter said soothingly.

"I don't see how anyone can expect me to do otherwise," said Snow White.

The music ended. Snow stepped away from Peter and curtsied deeply.

"If Your Majesty will excuse me."

"I'm not sure I should leave you just now," said Peter.

"I just need some air." Snow turned and fled. A Dryad immediately intercepted Peter for the next dance, preventing him from following her.

That's fine, Snow thought. I just need to be alone.

Snow lifted her long skirt and trotted up the stairs out of the ballroom. One of the Faun footmen opened the door for her.

"All's well, Your Highness?" The Faun eyed her face with concern.

"Quite all right," said Snow White. "I find myself in need of some air. Is there a balcony or courtyard near here, please?"

The Faun nodded. "To the right, third door on the left, Your Highness. You'll be able to smell the sea."

Snow followed his instructions and found herself in a small garden overlooking the sea. Moonlight glimmered off the water and washed the leaves of the garden in silver. A wisteria vine twined over the doorway and along the lattices which broke the garden into small, private nooks. Several of these housed bird baths or fountains or statues. Lions, Fauns, and Dryads featured heavily in the statuary.

The edge of the garden dropped sharply to the terrace below; a low railing ran along the precipice. Snow thought it might be made of marble. She followed the railing to the end of the garden, where a bench sat in the corner between the railing and the wall of the palace. She sank onto the bench and put her face in her hands.

Peter is right, she thought. Citrine is not my fault. She chose Nialba and schemed her way into power. It is not my fault—but I could have prevented it. If I had been more wary, more alert—if I had known just a little more about my own country—but it was not my fault. Not entirely my fault.

When Snow finally lifted her face from her hands, her palms were damp with tears. She wiped them on her dress, then wiped her face with her hem. She sniffled loudly.

"All right?"

Snow was embarrassed by the small scream that left her mouth. "Dammit, Edmund! You startled me!"

"Sorry." He emerged from the shadowy place where he'd been sitting and sat beside Snow on the bench. "Are you, though? All right?"

"Yes. I was momentarily—that is—I haven't been to a ball in a while—and there are so many people, and—"

Edmund interrupted her mercifully. "It's all right. It can be overwhelming. Does it remind you of your father?"

"No. I never attended balls as a child," Snow said. "I was to come of age at fifteen and attend my first ball, but Citrine locked me in my room on my birthday."

"I remember coming of age in Narnia," Edmund said. "Peter promised it wasn't so bad, but I've always hated being the center of attention."

"Me, too," said Snow. "But I was very excited for my birthday that year." She sighed.

"I can't imagine it would have been better than one of Susan's balls," Edmund said bracingly.

Snow chuckled weakly.

Edmund pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve and offered it to her. Snow took it and dabbed at her eyes.

"It's going to be all right, in the end," he said.

"How do you know?" Snow tried to offer him back his handkerchief.

"Keep it. You need it more than I do," said Edmund. "And I know because you're not in this alone. You've got your friends at home, and the Dwarfs, and now you've got us. I'll tell you, High King Peter is a force to be reckoned with in battle."

"I'm sure he is." Snow could just imagine Peter, astride a white horse, sword and mail glinting in the sunlight, his golden hair flowing from beneath a helm. It was a comforting image. "I should go back inside," she said. "People will wonder where I've gone."

"Of course." Edmund stood and offered his hand. "Your Highness?"

Snow took the proffered hand, and Edmund helped her stand. Her gown was heavier than she'd thought it would be.

"Shall I escort you back to the ballroom?" Edmund said.

"You aren't going back in?"

"Aslan, no. I've had enough bowing and scraping for one night. Besides, we've a lot to do starting tomorrow."

"You're right," Snow said. "Still, I feel I should go back for a little while. Queen Susan went to all that trouble."

Edmund snorted. "Trust me, that wasn't on your account. Susan loves throwing balls, and Midsummer is by far her favorite."

"I'll go back anyway," Snow said. "But I can find my way, I think. Thank you, Your Majesty. For everything."

She left the garden with her head held high.

Edmund watched her go, thinking. She's been through a lot, and she's had no one to confide in. The Dwarfs are her friends, yes, but she's still their Queen. Thank Aslan she came to us.

He smiled. The Lion had probably attended to it personally.


	8. Chapter 6

It took nearly a month for the Narnian army to prepare for the march to Nialba. Snow's three battalions and six companies had recently returned from a campaign against the giants in the north. Their armor had to be repaired, their mounts reshod, their weapons sharpened. The Kings and Queen Lucy had to be similarly prepared.

A gang of Narnian dwarfs was tasked with outfitting Snow White, under Sevibrik's supervision. The sword Snow had wielded for three years was remade of fine new steel, and emeralds set into the hilt. Snow thought it was too flashy for real battle, but didn't say so. She was given a mail hauberk, leather arm guards, boots with greaves, a helmet, mail-backed gloves, thick leather breeches, and a sleeveless jerkin in Nialban colors. The crest of Nialba, a silver hawk on a forest green field, was sewn onto the front.

The dwarfs were similarly outfitted. Sevibrik acquired a new battleaxe, and Medibrik twin dirks. Stultibrik was given a small crossbow and told to stay in the back with the other archers.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Lucy promised Snow.

The Narnians also had a new saddle and bridle made for Blackjack. The leather of the saddle was tooled with vines, hawks, and lion heads. Snow hated to take it into battle, it was so beautiful.

While the Narnian dwarfs worked at their crafts, Snow and the Narnian monarchs trained. Snow sparred with Peter and Edmund, and managed to disarm Peter twice. Lucy also proved to be skilled with a sword, though her brothers preferred that she stand with the archers. Snow and Lucy challenged each other with small or moving targets.

"Good job Susan's not out here," Lucy said, laughing, after Snow shot an apple out of Stultibrik's palm. "She'd put us both to shame."

Stultibrik was grinning. "Wonderful job, Princess!"

Oreius wanted to meet with Snow and the monarchs at every available opportunity to discuss battle plans. He had procured maps of Nialba from somewhere, and bombarded Snow with more questions about the castle's defenses and the surrounding terrain. All three Narnians proved to be shrewd strategists.

"Peter planned the Battle of Beruna," Lucy told Snow proudly.

"Yes, but we would've lost if Ed hadn't broken Jadis's wand!" Peter said.

Snow stared at Edmund. "You did what?"

"She kept turning our soldiers to stone," Edmund said. "I figured it was her biggest advantage, so I charged her and managed to break it."

"He was mortally wounded in the process," Peter said.

"Not so wounded," Edmund said. "Lucy healed me."

"Oh, that reminds me: Peter, ought I to bring the cordial with me?" asked Lucy.

Peter hesitated. "Yes, do," he said. "But use it only for emergencies."

Snow was mystified, and none of the Narnians offered any explanation. It didn't seem to occur to them that any was required.

Many of the guests from the ball lingered at Cair Paravel. The Duke of Galma kept trying to get Snow White to take walks with him, or sit next to him at dinner, or go riding. Snow provided viable excuses why this was impossible: she had a fitting for armor, she was expected in the practice courts, she had a meeting with the war ministers. She was planning a war, for Aslan's sake!

"I hope, Your Highness, that we might resume our acquaintanceship once your kingdom is secured," said the Duke. "You may consider Galma as much a friend and ally as you do Narnia."

"Perhaps I might," said Snow coolly, "if Galma were offering me the support that Narnia has, untested as I am."

"Hardly untested," the Duke said smoothly. "Guerilla warfare against a strong monarchy is no small feat."

Edmund appeared at the other end of the corridor. When his dark eyes met Snow's, she tried her best to beg for rescue with just a look.

"You're very kind to say so, Duke," Snow said.

Edmund made a beeline for Snow White. "There you are, Your Highness," he said. "You are required at once. Duke, if you'll excuse us."

He took Snow's hand, tucked it into his elbow, and led her away.

"Thank you," Snow said quietly.

Edmund glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "It was my pleasure. You should see the look on his face right now."

"I wish he'd leave me alone," said Snow. "I think I know what he wants, but he must know that I cannot think about such things right now. When I am Queen, maybe, but—"

"You can do better than the Duke of Galma," said Edmund tersely.

"Galma is wealthy and well-connected—"

"Yes, but the Duke is slimy and conniving."

"I wish you'd stop interrupting me," said Snow crossly. "I realize that I rank below you, Your Majesty, but surely I am afforded some respect from you."

"I apologize," said Edmund, looking abashed.

"I accept your apology," said Snow with dignity.

Edmund took her to the war room to meet with Peter and Oreius, then disappeared, muttering something about the stables.

"What did you say to Ed?" Peter asked.

"He kept interrupting me, and I took him to task for it," Snow said.

Peter laughed. "He probably didn't like that."

"I don't care if he liked it," said Snow. "I am to be a Queen. Surely my thoughts are worth hearing. And even if I weren't a Queen, he shouldn't interrupt me all the time."

"Quite right," said Peter. "Now—do you think that Citrine knows of this pass here?" He indicated a place on the map with a long wooden pointer.

"She must," said Snow. "She has ruled Nialba for seven years."

"But there is no road marked here," Peter said.

"Isn't there?" Snow peered at the map. "I know the place, and there is a road there."

"What say you, Oreius? Is the map outdated, or is the road unofficial?"

"I couldn't say, Your Majesty," said the centaur. "What is the road used for, Your Highness?"

"We've raided there before," Snow said. "I always thought that it was merchants leaving Nialba, just like all the other roads."

"Yes, but look where this pass leads," said Peter. "Not to Telmar, or Archenland, or Calormen. It goes straight into the Western Wilds. What trade could be available there?"

"There are settlements out there," said Snow.

"They are not on this map."

"No, but they exist. I lived in some of them."

"So this map is not entirely correct," said Peter. "Does Citrine know of the trade in the Western Wilds?"

"How should I know?" Snow asked irritably.

"Sorry. Let me rephrase," Peter said. "Was the trade on that road illicit?"

"I'm not sure," Snow said. "None of the caravans we saw through that pass bore Citrine's crest, but that doesn't guarantee that they were acting illegally."

"It seems likely," Peter said.

"I suppose," Snow said.

"So—that road is not known to Citrine," Peter said. "Let us mark it as a possible means of attack."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Oreius made a note.

The day before they left, Susan threw a picnic for everyone. The idea was to wish them well and allow them to relax before the long journey ahead. Most of the Midsummer guests were in attendance, as well as those departing.

Snow White was clad in a light linen gown, and her long hair was twisted up off of her neck. The day was sunny, but a breeze off the sea kept it from being hot. Immense white awnings had been set up to provide shade for food and guests alike. The five royals sat on low chairs under the largest of these awnings. A trio of Dryads stood behind them with large fans.

Sweat trickled down Snow's back. It never gets this warm at home, she thought. Narnia is beautiful, but I miss home.

Duke Geoffrey of Archenland was sitting on a stool at Lucy's feet. Snow avoided looking directly at him; the puppyish expression on his face was nauseating.

"I shall miss you, Your Majesty," said Duke Geoffrey.

"You're kind, Duke," said Lucy formally, but she smiled. "I will miss you, too."

"The entire Court suffers in your absence," Geoffrey declared.

"I daresay it does," said Susan drily, "what with three monarchs out of the country."

"Don't be like that, Su," Peter said quietly.

"And I look forward to furthering Archenland's acquaintance with Nialba, Your Highness, once your throne is assured," Geoffrey said to Snow.

"Thank you, Your Grace," said Snow White tersely. It was almost exactly what the Duke of Galma had said.

"Archenland have long been close friends and allies of the Narnian monarchy," said Edmund with a pointed look at Snow.

"Of course," Snow said. "I thank you, Duke, for your pledge of friendship. Tell me, where is your duchy in relation to Nialba?"

"Quite close, I believe," said Duke Geoffrey. "Southanger is on the western end of Archenland, and there is a road that runs south and west from there."

"I am glad to hear it," said Snow. "I admit I have been pleasantly surprised by the good feeling toward me during my time here."

"Surprised?" said Peter. "Surely you don't mean that, Snow. You can't have expected us to turn you out on your ear."

"Perhaps not," Snow said. "But I had and have no way to prove that I am who I am. And as you said, Your Majesty, you knew nothing of my father or my country. For all you know, I am a penniless thief bent on deceiving you for the sake of riches, or to gain power over a country to which I have no right—"

"That is enough," said Peter.

"I only mean that I underestimated your generosity and good faith," said Snow White. "I am humbled and grateful."

"Still, let's not speak of it," Peter said.

A party of Seven Islanders approached the monarchs; Peter and Susan turned to greet them. Geoffrey leaned in and whispered something to Lucy, who giggled. Snow saw awkwardly on the edge of the group.

Edmund pulled his chair close to Snow's. "You're right, you know."

"Am I?"

"I think so. We should have been warier of you. My siblings are, I think, entirely too trusting."

"Is that so bad? I certainly cannot condemn them for it," said Snow. "As we rode up to Cair Paravel I worried that you would throw me in the dungeon, or have me put in the stocks—"

"We don't have stocks in Narnia."

"Will you stop interrupting me?"

"Sorry."

"The point is: I was afraid that you wouldn't believe me. I had only my word, and the word of my friends, as proof that I wasn't trying to take you in for fools."

"What you did was very brave," Edmund said. "You put your faith in complete strangers to trust you and help you."

"I wouldn't have done it if I thought I had any other choice," said Snow. "I did not think it was such a good idea, myself."

"It was a terrible idea," Edmund said. "You got lucky. Peter believes in the goodness of people."

"Again: is that so bad?"

Edmund shrugged. "He doesn't want to hear any alternatives."

"Oh," said Snow.

"I'm trying to apologize for the way he brushed you off."

"No, he was right. We shouldn't talk about that right now."

"Maybe not," Edmund said. "But that's no excuse for rudeness."

Snow was quiet for a moment. "You're very kind to me," she said at last.

"No kinder than any of my siblings," said Edmund dismissively.

"Not so. None of them talks to me as much as you do."

"I'm sure that's not true. I know for a fact that Lucy talks to you a great deal."

"She and Susan have been very sweet. But they think that everything will sort itself out. They think that I will be fine, and that Nialba will be all right."

"You don't think that?"

"That's just it: I don't know. I don't know if we can win the war. I don't know if your people will come through this all right. I don't know why Narnia should fight for me. I don't know if this is the right thing to do. Yes, Citrine is a usurper, but Nialba prospers. You said that justice does not necessarily equate kindness. What if I take my father's throne, and my people suffer? Is that the right thing, or not? It is right because the usurper will be gone. But if I do not tear Nialba asunder with civil war, my people will prosper and be happy, will they not? That is also the right thing."

"Snow, take a breath, please," Edmund interrupted.

Snow gulped air.

"I know what you mean. Your concerns are not invalid," said Edmund gently. "But I don't think you would have come here, to us, if you weren't intended to do this."

"Intended by whom?"

"Aslan," said Edmund.

"Why should Aslan care about me?"

"He cares about everyone," Edmund said. "Do you think the four of us came to Narnia ready-made kings and queens? Of course we didn't. We had to learn. But we had help, and so do you. We had the Lion's approval, and so do you."

"How do you know I have the Lion's approval? Has he come to you and said so?"

"No," Edmund said. "And I don't know for sure. But that's faith, isn't it? Believing when you don't know for sure."

"I suppose," said Snow thoughtfully.

Duke Geoffrey stood and offered his hand to Lucy. She took it and stood, and the pair approached Snow and Edmund.

"Fancy a game of croquet?" said Lucy. "Geoffrey and I against you?"

"Absolutely." Edmund stood and gave Snow his hand.

Lucy led the way to the croquet pitch. Snow and Edmund lagged behind a bit. Snow gripped Edmund's elbow tightly.

"I haven't played croquet since I was little," she hissed.

"You'll be fine," said Edmund. "It's like riding a bicycle."

"What's a bicycle?"

"Never mind."

Snow and Edmund lost the first game, but Snow got the hang of the mallet, and they crushed Lucy and Geoff in the second game. A number of people gathered around to watch, which made Snow a little uncomfortable, but she soon forgot about it.

"Best out of three?" said Duke Geoffrey, mopping his forehead.

"Depends," said Edmund. "Is there any money riding on it?"

"If you like," said Geoff.

"Oh, let's don't," said Lucy. "We're having such a nice time."

"All right," said Edmund.

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. Snow and Edmund won the third game, much to Geoffrey's chagrin. Then Lucy suggested they walk through Cair Paravel's gardens. As it turned out, Edmund knew the most about the different plants, and kept up a constant commentary as they walked among the trees and fountains.

"It is beautiful," Snow said. "I should do something like this at home." It was the first time she'd spoken aloud of the castle as "home," as something in her future rather than in her past.

"I'd be happy to help you," Edmund said.

As the sun set, they returned to the main lawn, where a light supper had been set out. Satyrs went around the perimeter lighting torches, bathing the party in a warm glow. As the night grew chillier, jackets and shawls were handed round, courtesy of Their Majesties.

Finally, the party broke up. Some of the guests dispersed to small indoor salons for drinks and card games, but the departing royals elected to go to bed.

"I'll get up to see you off," said Susan as she hugged Snow good-night, "but don't expect me to look radiant."

"I can't imagine you looking otherwise," said Snow.

The Duke of Galma cornered Snow before she left the party.

"I regret that I shall not see you again before your departure, Your Highness," he said. "Rest assured that I will come visit you as soon as you are settled in your castle."

"There's no rush," said Snow. "Things will be chaos for a while yet."

The three Dwarfs caught up with her on the stairs.

"Everything is in readiness for tomorrow," said Medibrik.

"These Narnian dwarfs know what they're about," said Sevibrik gruffly. "Weapons are well-made."

"I am glad to hear it," said Snow. "Their generosity seems boundless."

Sevibrik grunted.

"You still don't trust them?" said Snow.

"I don't trust anyone what hasn't saved my life more'n once," said Sevibrik.

"So that's, what, all of three people?" Medibrik quipped.

"More than three," said Sevibrik. "There's all of our lot. The Magpie's been helpful sometimes. And, of course, Her Highness."

"When have I ever saved your life?" said Snow.

"A raid on the Queen's storehouses, when you were sixteen," Sevibrik said. "You barely knew how to swing a sword, but you still went in and sliced a soldier who was coming after me with a pike. I'll never forget it, Your Highness."

Snow flushed. This was as good as praise from Sevibrik.

When they reached the top of the stairs, the Dwarfs and Snow parted ways.

"Good night, Your Highness," said Medibrik. "We'll see you on the morrow."

"Good night, Princess!" said Stultibrik.

A Dryad handmaiden was waiting for Snow in her chamber. With the maid's help, Snow shed her dress, bathed thoroughly, and donned a nightgown. She wasn't sure when she'd next have a bath, and it was a habit she'd grown fond of.

The Dryad blew out the lamps in her room, and Snow was asleep shortly thereafter.


	9. Chapter 7

Snow rose before dawn the next morning. Her traveling gear was already laid out for her, and she dressed quickly. The new clothes felt strange, as if they belonged to someone else. She'd never worn so much mail before.

The Narnians were waiting in the small dining room downstairs. A light breakfast was laid out for the royals: hot tea, eggs, and a loaf of cinnamon-sweet bread Lucy said was called coffee cake. Susan didn't eat anything, and she was clad in her nightgown, dressing gown, and slippers. In spite of her unkempt appearance, her hair was silky and her eyes were bright.

"Oreius said they'll be ready in the courtyard in under an hour," said Peter. "We should hurry."

"But don't hurry too much," said Susan, and yawned. "You'll get ill riding on full stomachs."

"I never have," said Lucy, helping herself to another slice of coffee cake.

"Well, you will if you keep eating like that!" Susan said.

Edmund, meanwhile, hadn't spoken. He squinted sleepily at his surroundings, and clutched his teacup possessively.

"One more, Ed," said Peter bracingly. "Ed's not a morning person," he said to Snow. "We can't get a thing out of him until he's had at least three cups of tea."

"I noticed," said Snow drily.

Susan went back upstairs soon after that. It wouldn't do for the army to see her in her pajamas, she said. Snow didn't know what pajamas were, but didn't say so. Susan kissed her siblings good-bye, and gave Snow a long hug.

"It's been lovely having you," Susan said. "You'll have to come stay again, sometime."

"Gladly, Your Majesty," said Snow White.

Snow was the first to finish eating. She sat quietly while Peter and Lucy loaded their plates again. Edmund perked up, finally, and ate a little.

"I'm not one for breakfast," Edmund said.

"Nor am I," said Snow. "At least not so early. Medibrik used to make a big brunch, and then we'd have a late tea and supper. He thought it saved food to do it that way."

"He may have been right," Edmund said.

When Peter finished eating, he immediately pushed his chair back. "I'm going to check on Oreius."

Snow sprang to her feet. "I'll come with you."

"There's no need," Peter said.

"On the contrary," said Snow. "Someday I may have to arrange a campaign on my own, and I cannot summon you to Nialba on a whim to inspect my troops, can I?"

Peter blinked, taken aback. "I suppose not."

"I'll wait with Lu," Edmund said.

"I'm almost done!" said Lucy. "Just one more cup of tea.

"It's amazing you're as small as you are," Edmund said.

The halls of Cair Paravel were quiet so early in the morning, and washed with pale dawn light from the many windows. A handful of servants were up and about, cleaning before all the nobles arose. They all stopped and bowed to Peter and Snow White.

In contrast to the halls, the stableyard was loud and busy. Infantry rushed through, heaving packs and clanking weapons; bridles jingled and horses nickered; dwarfish bass voices boomed through the yard; and a loud hum of talk among the soldiers overlay it all.

Oreius trotted over to meet the royals, his fresh shoes clattering on the cobbles. "Good morning Your Majesty, Your Highness."

"Everything is in order, I trust, Oreius?" said PEter.

"It is, Your Majesty," said Oreius. "Will you mount up now, or wait?"

"Now," said Peter. "Then we can ride outside and be out of your way."

Oreius bowed. "Very good, Your Majesty."

Satyrs held the bridles of Peter's two mounts and Snow's Blackjack. Another satyr hurried forward to help Snow onto Blackjack's back, but she swung up easily. When she first rode Blackjack, Sevibrik had to help her into the saddle, since Blackjack was much taller than Snow's old pony, but now she could do it without assistance.

Peter critically appraised his two horses and opted to ride a magnificent white stallion that day. "I haven't ridden him in a while, since he's a war horse," Peter said. "He needs to get used to me again."

"Very wise, Your Majesty," said Snow.

Peter smiled at her. "Listen to you, talking like a courtier."

Snow flushed. "Sorry, Your Majesty."

"No, no apology," Peter said. "It's good. You'll be able to manage a court."

I hope so, Snow thought. Raids are one things; running a kingdom is another entirely.

As a stablehand checked over Blackjack's tack one last time, Edmund and Lucy arrived, and mounted up quickly. The entire army halted all activity to bow to the four royals as they rode out of the courtyard.

As the sun rose, they left Cair Paravel in a long, gay caravan that stretched out almost a mile. In addition to the soldiers and all the gear, there was a substantial staff for the four monarchs and their attendants. Snow White had been assigned a dryad handmaiden, Sylvia, and each of the Narnians had a personal servant. In addition, there were the cooks, smiths, grooms, squires, and pages, and the great wagons carrying the army's food and tents.

At the very front of the columns was Peter, radiant on his white stallion, the sun glinting off his mail. Edmund rode on his right, with Oreius keeipng pace, and Snow and Lucy rode on Peter's left. The bannermen rode on the outside of them, with the Nialban dwarfs immediately behind.

We're an impressive sight, Snow thought.

Many Narnians gathered in the streets of Cair Paravel to cheer for their kings and queen. Pennants in Narnian colors were sold cheaply on corners, as well as flowers that were thrown under the horses' hooves.

"It's considered good luck," Lucy explained.

The army moved south slowly, despite the good roads. Local Narnians came out of the woods to watch them pass: families of Talking Animals, Dryads, Centaurs, Fauns, Satyrs, Naiads, and other creatures Snow couldn't name. Peter, Edmund, or Lucy could greet almost all of them by name.

Summer was nearly gone by the time the army entered Archenland, where they were greeted by a small party from Anvard and given a fine lunch. Snow was impatient with such niceties when her people might be starving, but Edmund reminded her that after she regained her throne, it would behoove her to have friends in Archenland.

They camped that night in Archenland, which was rockier and cooler than Narnia. When a halt was called, the servants rushed about laying rugs and pitching tents for the Narnians and Snow White.

"You travel very comfortably," Snow remarked when they were settled under a canopy with a lap rug and ahot drink each.

"Only so long as we're in friendly territory," Peter said. "Once we get closer to Nialba, even the royalty will sleep on the ground."

"I'm glad," said Snow. "I almost miss it."

There was a moment's silence; then Lucy got the joke and giggled. Edmund smiled into his hot cocoa. Snow was glad to see that. Edmund's smiles were hard-won.

"It's supposed to be better for one's back," Edmund said.

The next night, Peter called a meeting of the generals to discuss their plans. "The generals" included Snow, Medibrik, and Sevibrik as well as Edmund, Oreius, and Lucy. Stultibrik ensured everyone's ciders stayed full.

Snow was enthralled by the large, detailed map that a couple of Faun footmen spread across the table. The footmen also set up colored pieces to represent the different armies, which Peter moved around the table with a long stick.

"This western road here is our best chance of a surprise attack, I think," Peter said. "But I don't want to put all our eggs in one basket, as the saying goes."

"Citrine won't be expecting any Narnian forces," Snow said. "Why not send me directly at the castle, with the dwarfs and my Nialban fighters-"

"We're not sending you in there alone," Edmund said.

"If you'd let me finish, Your Majesty-"

"Sorry."

"-and perhaps some reinforcements, Citrine would focus her attention on us. She must have been expecting an uprising from me for years now. This allows the bulk of the Narnian army to come in from the west and surround the castle."

"A siege?" Peter shook his head. "I've never liked sieges. There's always the chance of an escape tunnel, or full storerooms, or a deep well. They could outlast us."

"With respect, Your Majesty, I doubt it," said Medibrik. "Our intelligence from the Ravens tells us that there are no food supplies within the castle walls-no gardens, no stock yards, nothing. All the food must be brought in from Whitehorn, Nialba's capital. And Her Highness remembers the palace quite well from her childhood. There are three wells, all shallow, but water will do Citrine little good if she cannot feed her guards."

"And once we had them in siege, we could gather further intel and orchestrate a more concentrated attack," Edmund said.

They debated the siege for a further half hour. Finally, they decided to send Snow in with a substantial attack force, on the off chance of catching Citrine off-guard and taking the castle without a siege. Edmund would command these Narnian forces, while Peter and Lucy closed in from the western route, guided by Medibrik.

Patches met them at a rendezvous point two days later, bringing the amassed Nialban forces. Snow had a joyous reunion with Veribrik, Felibrik, Dormibrik, and Numibrik. Felibrik exclaimed over Snow's new armor, and Dormibrik was awed by Sevibrik's new axe.

"Those Narnian dwarfs are fine craftsmen indeed!" said Dormibrik. "Once this is over, I must go to Narnia myself and take up an apprenticeship there!"

"Oh, don't!" said Snow. "I'd miss you too much!"

"Dormibrik's skills could only benefit the kingdom," said Sevibrik, reminding Snow that soon she would be their Queen.

"Of course," Snow said. "You must go if you wish, Dormibrik."

All of the dwarfs except Medibrik would ride straight to the castle with Snow. They fussed over the arrangement of their five ponies around Blackjack. Sevibrik planted himself firmly on Snow's right and would not be budged.

"Best of luck to you, Your Highness," said Medibrik. "May we meet again."

"We will meet again," said Snow firmly, thinking, I can't do this without you.

"We'll see you soon!" said Lucy with a cheery wave as the Narnians rode away.


End file.
